


After All These Years

by jdale



Category: JAG (TV 1995)
Genre: Divorce, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Past Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie/Harmon Rabb Jr., Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdale/pseuds/jdale
Summary: Harm is reunited with an old friend on the eve of his promotion to vice admiral.
Relationships: Caitlin "Kate" Pike & Harmon Rabb Jr., Harmon Rabb Jr. & Bud Roberts, Harmon Rabb Jr. & Peter Ulysses "Sturgis" Turner, Jennifer Coates & Harmon Rabb Jr., Meg Austin & Bud Roberts, Meg Austin & Caitlin "Kate" Pike, Meg Austin/Harmon Rabb Jr.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	After All These Years

**Author's Note:**

> For best viewing of the timestamps, download and install the OCRB font found at <https://www.wfonts.com/font/ocrb>.

**1612 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA**

Soon-to-be Vice Admiral Harmon Rabb, Jr. was a mess. He was due to assume the office of Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy in four days, and the Senate Armed Services Committee was still waffling between three choices for his replacement as Deputy Judge Advocate General, meaning he would likely be forced to pull double duty in the interim.

On top of that, his personal life was shot. That had started three years ago, shortly after his appointment to the DJAG’s post, when his then-wife of six and a half years, retired Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, had been fired from her job as a public defender after a client’s conviction was overturned on grounds of inadequate counsel. This prompted the former colonel, a recovering alcoholic, to fall back into her old habits, despite Harm’s attempts to seek counseling for her. The matter came to a head one afternoon when Harm arrived home to find her beating their 7-year-old adopted son, Matthew. After this, Harm had quickly filed for divorce, receiving in the ensuing and sometimes heated proceedings full custody of Matthew and their 3-year-old adoptive daughter, Sally.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” he muttered at his computer. Stabbing the intercom button, he barked, “Fitzpatrick!”

 _“Yes, Admiral?”_ came the voice of Yeoman First Class Dennis Fitzpatrick.

“Would you call down to the Helpless Desk and tell them my stupid Outlook crashed again?” Harm requested.

 _“Right away, Admiral,”_ Fitzpatrick replied.

Harm sighed. “Too bad I can’t just get Bud to fix it,” he muttered to himself.

Harm’s Chief of Staff, and the object of his musings, Captain Bud Roberts, Jr., was in his own office fielding telephone calls.

“Captain Roberts,” he answered.

 _“Captain, this is Lieutenant Javier Rivera, sir, I’d like to discuss meeting to draw up a will,”_ came the reply.

“Alright, Lieutenant, for that you’ll want to talk to Administration & Legal Services,” Bud explained. “Would you like me to transfer you?”

 _“With all due respect, sir, when I asked the switchboard who I would want to talk to about drawing up a will, they transferred me to you,”_ Lt. Rivera replied.

“Sounds to me like the operator was up a little too late last night,” Bud informed him with a chuckle. “I’ll put you on with ALS.”

 _“Believe me, Captain, I know how that goes,”_ Rivera agreed. _“Sometimes it seems like you can’t leave enlisteds unattended for more than five minutes at a time.”_

Bud hit a button on the phone to initiate the transfer. “Captain Roberts,” he answered the next call.

 _“Petty Officer Conway says he’ll accept a bad-conduct discharge and forfeiture of six months’ pay, no confinement,”_ Bud’s colleague, Lt. Commander Angela Phillips, informed him.

“He let his 7-year-old daughter electrocute herself while he was off drinking himself into oblivion!” Bud exploded. “Dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and eighteen months’ confinement. That’s the best you’re getting.”

 _“Despite my attempts to convince him otherwise, the petty officer has informed me that he will not accept confinement as part of a plea deal,”_ Phillips replied. _“Dishonorable discharge and forfeiture of pay and allowances for three years.”_

“No deal,” Bud replied. “He’s not getting out of this one without confinement.”

Phillips sighed. _“I’ll see you in court, counselor.”_

“My offer still stands, if you want to try to convince him to take it,” Bud offered. “Dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and eighteen months’ confinement.”

 _“Oh, I’ll try, all right, but the petty officer’s as stubborn as a whole herd of mules, and I can’t force him to accept anything,”_ Phillips lamented, _“even if it would be in his own best interests.”_

“Well, as much as I’d like to continue this discussion, I’ve got another call coming in,” Bud reported.

 _“I understand,”_ she replied with a smile. _“If Conway decides to face reality and go for the deal, I’ll let you know.”_

“Works for me,” Bud confirmed, switching to the next incoming call. “Captain Roberts.”

 _“Captain, you’re defending Chief Hancock, correct?”_ another of Bud’s coworkers, LCDR Jason Tiner, asked.

 _“That’s correct,”_ Bud replied.

 _“I’m offering dishonorable discharge and ten years confinement,”_ Tiner proposed.

“I’ll accept five years. Seaman Burke’s burns were only second-degree,” Bud reminded him.

 _“Eight,”_ Tiner counter-offered.

“Seven,” Bud responded.

 _“And a half,”_ Tiner added.

“Unless my client has a strong objection, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Bud agreed.

 _“If he’s smart, he’ll take it,”_ Tiner observed.

“Alright, thanks, Tiner, I’ll talk to the chief Monday morning, and if he okays it, we should be able to run it past the convening authority Monday afternoon,” Bud finished, switching over to yet another incoming call. “Captain Roberts.”

 _“Good afternoon, Captain, this is Petty Officer Wallace calling on behalf of Admiral Rothschild,”_ she greeted Bud, who immediately sat up a little straighter on his chair. Admiral Rothschild was one of the three remaining candidates to replace Harm as Deputy JAG.

“Go ahead, Petty Officer,” Bud invited.

 _“Sir, the admiral asked me to call and see if you had any advice on a good divorce attorney,”_ PO Wallace explained.

“Well, if the admiral would be so willing, I’d be happy to handle the divorce myself,” Bud volunteered.

After a moment’s discussion on the other end, Petty Officer Wallace came back on the line with, _“She’d be happy to let you handle it. When will you be available to meet so you can discuss the particulars? This could be a particularly messy proceeding.”_

“My calendar is free until 1830 tonight. Would the admiral be available to meet sometime today?” Bud queried.

After another short pause, Wallace replied, _“As soon as you’re ready, we’re ready. I’ll meet you in the lobby of the Best Western on New Hampshire Avenue. Look for a Machinist’s Mate Second Class in Service Dress Blues.”_

“Alright, that’s probably about a half-hour drive. You’ll be looking for a captain in Service Dress Blues and probably wearing an overcoat,” Bud instructed.

 _“Got it, sir. Captain in Service Dress Blue with coat,”_ Wallace confirmed.

“I’ll see you then, Petty Officer,” Bud finished, ending the call and grabbing his coat and cover from the hatstand.

As Bud was leaving, he was stopped by the recently appointed head of judiciary, Harm’s Academy classmate Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Sturgis Turner. “Taking an early lunch, Captain?” he questioned.

“Uh, no, sir. Meeting with a client, sir,” Bud explained hastily, drawing up to attention.

“Carry on,” Sturgis replied with a nod.

Bud returned the nod in kind and made his way to the elevator. Sturgis, meanwhile, made his way to Harm’s office and knocked.

“Come in,” Harm sighed.

“Any word from General Cresswell?” Sturgis asked. The outgoing JAG, Lt. General Gordon Cresswell, was at the Capitol observing the hearing to select Harm’s successor as Deputy JAG.

As if on cue, the phone rang on Harm’s desk. “Admiral Rabb,” he answered.

 _“I think they’re close,”_ Lt. Gen. Cresswell informed him. _“They just declared a two-hour lunch recess, and while they haven’t confirmed this, I would not be surprised if they take a vote when the hearing resumes.”_

“I wouldn’t think so, sir,” Harm replied. “At least from my point of view, I would want to take the vote right before the lunch recess, so that if the results are conclusive, you can instead adjourn and not have to come back after lunch.”

 _“See, when I had my confirmation hearing, though, they took the vote right after returning from an extended lunch,”_ Cresswell explained. _“I think—and this is just conjecture, but I think they took the time to confer with their advisers on which way they should vote, and possibly even meet with each other to cast a preliminary ballot so that they didn’t waste time on a motion to vote if the result was going to be inconclusive.”_

“You said they’ll reconvene in two hours, sir?” Harm asked.

 _“Right. I’ll keep you posted,”_ Cresswell assured him, terminating the connection.

Harm returned the handset to its cradle and relayed the information to Sturgis.

“It does seem unusual, though, from what little of legislative procedure I picked up during my ill-fated tenure as Congresswoman Latham’s aide, that they would recess for lunch and then vote immediately on returning,” Sturgis commented.

Harm shrugged. “Cresswell said they did it at his confirmation.”

“So, are you just going to sit around here and do nothing until the committee reports out with a decision?” Sturgis asked.

“No, I think I’m headed out to grab some lunch,” Harm replied.

“You want any company?” Sturgis offered.

“Thanks, but I think I need some time to myself,” Harm declined. “This whole mess is somewhat confusing,” he explained, motioning to the various stacks of paper on his desk.

“You know, if it’s assigning personnel to trials that’s giving you trouble, you can just deal with trial and defense counsel, and I’ll assign judges,” Sturgis suggested.

“Thanks, buddy. I’ll probably do that for at least the first few months, and then I may or may not take that back over from you,” Harm decided.

“Unless things go absolutely terribly, it’s probably better to just stick with that. I work closer with the judges, so I’d probably know some of the nuances that might make one judge more or less suited to presiding over a certain case,” Sturgis reminded him.

“Uh, I really ought to get going,” Harm stated abruptly with a glance at his watch.

“Are you doing something behind my back?” Sturgis asked jokingly.

Harm glanced at him suspiciously. “Promise me you’ll keep this between the two of us?”

When Sturgis nodded, Harm continued in a low voice, “I’ve been having nightmares about Diane. Jen Coates just got her railroad tracks and a posting over in the psych ward at Bethesda, and she offered to give me some off-the-record advice.”

“Then I shan’t keep the lieutenant waiting,” Sturgis replied.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Harm told him, grabbing his overcoat and making for the door.

**1704 ZULU  
BEST WESTERN GEORGETOWN  
WASHINGTON, DC**

Bud entered the lobby and immediately spotted the tall machinist’s mate sent to escort him up.

“Good grief, traffic was a nightmare out there!” Bud huffed, removing his cover.

“Snow tends to do that, sir,” the petty officer commented. “Right this way, sir. We’ll be headed up to room 408.”

Bud nodded in acquiescence as they made their way to the elevator. “Machinist’s Mate seems like an odd rating for an admiral’s personal assistant,” he remarked.

“That’s because I’m not, sir. I’m the admiral’s niece,” Wallace explained. “She got into a tight spot, and the _McFaul_ happened to be in port at the time, so I requested emergency leave and came over here to give her a hand.”

“The _McFaul_. Is that your ship?” Bud asked.

“Yes, sir,” PO Wallace replied, pressing the elevator-call button.

“She your first assignment?” Bud continued, hoping to make conversation.

“Third. My first was the _Decatur_ , followed by the _Mahan_ ,” Wallace told him.

Their conversation was interrupted by a _ding_ announcing the elevator’s arrival.

The elevator ride was uneventful, and they soon arrived at room 408, where Petty Officer Wallace knocked on the door and announced, “Captain Roberts to see you, ma’am.”

A faint reply was heard from inside, so Wallace clicked the room key in the card reader, and they entered.

Bud was shocked at what he saw. Admiral Rothschild lay on one of the beds, her face and neck covered in bruises.

“Well, I was going to start by asking why you were seeking the divorce, ma’am, but that’s becoming fairly obvious,” Bud stammered.

“Of course, we both know Rick will deny everything,” the admiral replied hoarsely.

Bud sighed. “I don’t doubt that, ma’am. Ex-Colonel MacKenzie did—”

“MacKenzie. Wasn’t she the ex-Marine who got herself disbarred in the fallout from the Hutchison appeal?” PO Wallace interrupted.

Bud nodded sadly. “She…she used to be a friend, but…after what she did…”

“What exactly did she do, sir, if I may be so bold?” Wallace asked.

“Breach of attorney-client privilege,” Bud explained. “She apparently got fed up with defending obviously-guilty clients and provided the DA with an audio recording of a private meeting between the two in which Hutchison had admitted his guilt. Actually, that incident was how I got my start in handling divorces _pro bono_. Admiral—”

Bud’s speech was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. “Captain Roberts,” he answered.

 _“Conway broke brig,”_ LCDR Phillips informed him tersely.

“You may not be representing yourself, but I still say you have a fool for a client,” Bud replied. “If he’d stayed put and taken the deal, he’d get eighteen months. Now, he gets a year for escaping pretrial confinement, plus he’ll almost certainly get the full three years for the original child-endangerment charge.”

 _“Add to that a year for the disrespect to a superior commissioned officer charge I’m about to file against him after he tried to flirt with me while I was fruitlessly attempting to convince him to take the plea deal,”_ Phillips added.

“Fool for a client, indeed,” Bud remarked. “Is there something the search party needs me to do, or is this just an informative call?”

 _“He stole one of the guards’ weapons. Consider him armed and dangerous,”_ Lt. Commander Phillips replied. _“When I called to inform Admiral Rabb, I got Admiral Turner, who informed me that Admiral Rabb was at Bethesda. You’re closer to there than I am, can you run over there and inform him?”_

“You couldn’t get him on his cell?” Bud asked.

 _“Admiral Turner said he left his cell charging in his office,”_ Phillips explained.

Bud sighed. “Alright, traffic’s a mess, so it’ll probably still take me about a half-hour to forty minutes to work my way over there.”

 _“Understood,”_ Phillips replied. _“I’m probably on my way back to Headquarters in case Conway gets any ideas. If and when you’re able to locate Admiral Rabb, call me on my cell.”_

“Wilco,” Bud confirmed, disconnecting the call. Turning to Admiral Rothschild, he added, “Ma’am, I’m really sorry, but I’ve just been called over to deal with a brig break.”

Seeing that Admiral Rothschild had fallen asleep, Petty Officer Wallace stepped in. “That’s not a problem, sir. The admiral was once kidnapped by brig-breakers. I’m sure she’ll understand the importance of apprehending them in a timely manner.”

Bud raised one eyebrow, but quickly bid the petty officer farewell and left for the elevator.

Once Bud was safely alone in the elevator, he raised his eyes skyward and muttered to himself, “I sure hope Conway doesn’t try anything stupid.”

Bud’s ruminations were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. “Captain Roberts,” he answered.

 _“Captain, I’ve got the new Assistant JAG for Overseas Operations looking for Admiral Rabb,”_ Sturgis informed him. _“When you find him, ask him to return at once to deal with the situation.”_

“Understood, sir,” Bud acknowledged.

**1748 ZULU  
NATIONAL NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER  
BETHESDA, MARYLAND**

“Admiral, sir,” LT Jennifer Coates greeted her former CO.

“Doc,” Harm replied.

“You said you were having nightmares?” Coates asked, subtly slipping into ‘doctor mode.’

“And the funny thing is, they’re all almost exactly the same, right down to the street address,” Harm confirmed.

“About what time of night does this generally occur?” she continued.

“Around 0230, give or take a half hour,” Harm replied. “I remember two nights ago I actually had the same nightmare twice in one night. Usually, though, once I wake up the first time, that’s the last sleep I get that night.”

“Hmm,” Lt. Coates muttered, jotting something down on her notepad. “To have the same nightmare twice in one night is highly unusual. How long ago did this start?”

“Four days ago,” Harm told her.

“Alright, go ahead and describe the nightmares to me,” the lieutenant requested.

“Well, first I have to give you some background information to help put the events in context,” Harm explained. “While you were at JAG, did you ever hear about the Schonke investigation?”

“I believe Commander Turner may have mentioned it in passing, but I don’t know any of the details,” Coates replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud banging on the door of Lt. Coates’ office.

“I’m with a patient right now!” she hollered through the closed door.

“Well, would you tell him that Petty Officer Conway broke brig, and that Admiral Turner has requested his return to Headquarters to greet the new Assistant JAG for Overseas Operations,” Bud explained.

Harm rose to his feet, shrugging as he did so. “Duty calls,” he apologized.

“My next appointment’s not till 1630; if you’d like me to come with you so we can continue this in the car,” LT Coates suggested.

Harm nodded, motioning for her to follow as he moved for the door, grabbing his coat and cover as he passed the hatstand.

As he emerged from the office, he said, “Bud, when we get back, I need you to look up the ownership history for an address.”

He paused while Bud drew out pen and pad to write down the address.

“Okay, the address I need you to look up is 3612 Mason Street,” Harm informed him.

Coates’ head snapped up on hearing the address. “Sirs, I don’t know if it was 3612, but I saw on the news a couple nights ago where police were called to reports of a home invasion at a house on Mason Street.”

“Bud, I want to know the current owner of that house and the owner at the time of Lt. Schonke’s murder back in May of ‘96,” Harm dictated, slapping the elevator call button.

That turned on the lightbulb in Coates’ head. “Schonke. Wasn’t she that Academy friend of yours, sir?”

“That was killed by her ship’s XO to prevent her from reporting him for sexual harassment? Yes,” Harm replied without missing a beat.

“So what has that got to do with the nightmares?” she asked.

“At the start of the nightmare, I pick her up when she goes off watch, as we had planned,” Harm began. “However, instead of me driving us back to my apartment as were our intentions, she takes the wheel and drives us down to 3612 Mason Street in Fairfax. As we’re driving down there, these various bruises and cuts and other injuries appear on her out of nowhere.”

“Do these injuries mirror the injuries that proved fatal all those years ago?” Coates asked as they stepped into the elevator.

“No, she was killed by a double tap to the chest,” Harm replied.

Lt. Coates nodded. “Continue.”

“Anyhow, by the time we get there, she’s barely recognizable,” Harm continued. “We go into the living room, and she turns to me and croaks, ‘Save me.’ Almost immediately afterward, Diane’s murderer, Commander Holbarth, enters and kills her just as he did that night, with a double tap to the chest.”

“Wow, that is unusual,” Coates commented. “When you said that she turned to you and asked you to save her, I was going to suggest that perhaps your subconscious was trying to tell you that her killer was still out there, but the fact that her killer was the one who killed her in the nightmare would seem to discount that theory. Have you ever attempted to stop him?”

“Anything I try to touch just passes right through me,” Harm told her.

“Yet Lt. Schonke at minimum seems to be aware of your presence,” Coates noted. “Has CDR Holbarth ever shown any indication that he notices you?”

“No,” Harm replied.

“It’s the exact same every time?” Coates asked.

“One time we stopped at a gas station or something of that ilk, but the end result was always the same: Holbarth kills Diane at 3612 Mason Street,” Harm informed her.

“Okay, that’s not surprising,” Coates stated. “It would seem to suggest an inevitability to whatever’s bringing these nightmares up. Now I want you to think very carefully about this: you’re absolutely sure your mental image is that of Diane Schonke, not someone else who just looks very similar?”

Harm paused for a moment. “Bearing in mind that the late Lieutenant Schonke could have passed for ex-Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie’s identical twin, yes, I do believe it’s Diane.”

“Well, discounting the MacKenzie aspect, you’re absolutely, one hundred percent certain it’s Schonke’s face on Schonke’s body?” Coates pressed. “The reason I’m asking is because the mind has been known to put one person’s face on another’s body in a dream.”

“I am absolutely, one hundred percent certain,” Harm affirmed.

“I’ll say this, sir: you threw me quite a few puzzlers while I was a legalman at JAG, but I think this is the first time you’ve managed to give me an honest-to-goodness stumper,” Coates declared. “It’s obviously symbolic of something, but none of the usual telltales are there.”

Seeing that they had reached Harm’s car, Bud chose that moment to interrupt their conversation.

“Sir, if we don’t need to rush back to JAG Headquarters, I can take a few minutes to grab my laptop out of my car and run that address for you on the way back,” he suggested.

Rabb nodded. “Coates, if you don’t mind driving, I’d rather not have to slam on the brakes because Bud’s search turns up something startling,” he requested.

LT Coates nodded. “Aye, sir,” she responded, recognizing the implied order.

Bud returned a few minutes later and climbed into the backseat of the car as Harm slid into the shotgun position. Coates took the wheel and began backing the car out as the trio buckled their seatbelts.

As they pulled out of the parking lot at Bethesda, Bud started up his laptop and began his search.

“Anything yet, Bud?” Harm asked.

“It’s thinking, Admiral,” Bud replied. Almost immediately, the laptop’s speaker system emitted a soft ding. “Okay, here we go. 3612 Mason Street, currently registered…” Bud’s voice trailed off and, after a moment, he continued uncertainly, “You did say 3612 Mason Street, sir?”

“Yes, Bud,” Harm confirmed. “Why, is something the matter?”

Bud swore softly. “Admiral Rothschild’s soon-to-be ex-husband lives there, sir,” he reported.

“Soon-to-be ex-husband?” Harm asked.

“Yes, sir, she contacted me about an hour and a half ago looking for a divorce lawyer, and Jen, the police report you heard probably was regarding 3612. Her husband Richard has been abusing her, probably for quite some time, given the number of bruises I saw just on her face and neck,” Bud explained. “She’s staying at the Best Western up in Georgetown. Her niece is with her. She’s a machinist’s mate on the _McFaul_ , which happened to be docked at Norfolk when she heard about it. As I understand it, she took emergency leave and rushed up here as soon as she could.”

“How long to get to that hotel from here?” Harm queried.

“In this weather, it took me about forty-five minutes to get here from there when Admiral Turner sent me to fetch you,” Bud informed him.

“Take us there, Lieutenant,” Harm ordered. “The Assistant JAG for Overseas Operations can wait.”

“Aye, sir,” Coates responded.

“Sir, according to Lieutenant Commander Phillips, Conway palmed a gun off one of the guards when he broke brig. Are you sure being out here with an armed, dangerous alcoholic on the loose is a good idea?” Bud asked.

“Bud, if he’s after me, which we don’t know that he is, HQ is probably the first place he’ll look for me,” Harm countered, “and if we’re right about him being armed, the last place I want to be is the first place Conway goes.”

“Still, you should probably let Admiral Turner know you’re taking a detour,” Bud pointed out.

Harm nodded. “I left my cell back at the office, Bud. Can I borrow yours?”

“Aye, sir,” Bud replied, handing him the phone.

**1754 ZULU  
JAG HEADQUARTERS  
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA**

Sturgis was still waiting in Harm’s office when the desk phone rang. “Admiral Rabb’s office, Admiral Turner speaking.”

 _“Sturgis, I’m taking a detour to accompany Bud to another meeting with his client,”_ Harm told him. _“Bud thinks it might not be a good idea for me to be in the first place Conway will think to look for me.”_

“Harm, the man’s a drunk. He doesn’t even know you. I doubt you’re a target. Hell, I doubt anyone’s a target. He probably just doesn’t want to be sitting in a lockup with no access to a bottle of booze,” Sturgis surmised.

Bud motioned for Harm to put the phone on speaker. _“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, sir,”_ he stated. _“According to Commander Phillips, he palmed a gun off one of the guards when he broke out, and he had apparently attempted to flirt with her while she was trying to convince him to take a plea deal on the original charge.”_

Sturgis heaved a sigh. “She mentioned the guard’s stolen weapon, but she didn’t say anything about him having flirted with her. You think he might come after her for quote-unquote ‘spurning’ him?”

 _“You said it yourself, sir,”_ Bud replied. _“The man’s a drunk. Anything’s possible.”_

“Well, what am I supposed to tell Admiral Pike?” Sturgis asked.

 _“Cait Pike?”_ Harm queried.

“Yeah. You know her?” Sturgis responded.

 _“Put her on. She’ll understand,”_ Harm requested.

“Alright, one moment,” Sturgis replied.

Setting the phone on the desk, he poked his head into Harm’s outer office where Cait was waiting. “Admiral Rabb’s on the phone for you.”

Cait nodded and proceeded into the office, where she picked up the handset from where Sturgis had left it. “Admiral Pike speaking.”

_“We’ve known each other for two decades, Cait. Call me Harm. Look, Bud Roberts just informed me that Admiral Rothschild has asked him to serve as her divorce attorney, and I’ve been having nightmares about Diane’s murder that involve the house Rothschild lived at before she fled her abusive husband. She’s staying at the Best Western on New Hampshire Avenue; I’m on my way there to see if I can’t figure out what these all have to do with each other.”_

“Okay, that’s about a half-hour drive from here. Shall Admiral Turner and I meet you there?” Cait asked.

 _“In this weather, it’ll be more like forty-five minutes. Yeah, go ahead and meet us there,”_ Harm replied. _“There’s been a brig break, the guy’s armed, possibly drunk, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s on his way to Headquarters. Probably a good idea for the two of you to be elsewhere if and when he arrives.”_

“Alright, we’ll see you there, Harm. Pike out.”

Hanging up the phone, Cait strode back into the outer office, picked up her cover and coat from the hatstand where she had left them, and informed Sturgis, “Harm wants us to meet him at the Best Western on New Hampshire Avenue in Georgetown. Something about Admiral Rothschild and a recurring nightmare he’s been having.”

“Do you mind driving, Admiral?” Sturgis asked. “I’m expecting an important phone call.”

Cait nodded. “My car’s in the visitors’ parking lot,” she replied, moving quickly toward the elevator.

Sturgis followed, matching the younger admiral’s pace with his long strides as he pulled out his cell phone and called General Cresswell.

Cresswell picked up shortly thereafter. _“They’re still at lunch recess,”_ he reported.

“Rabb’s gone off half-cocked again,” Sturgis replied. “Something about Captain Roberts representing Admiral Rothschild in divorce proceedings.”

 _“Admiral Rothschild’s getting a divorce?”_ Cresswell asked, incredulous. _“Does the Senate know about this?”_

“Look, he’s only half-explained it to me,” Sturgis responded. Turning to Cait, he queried, “How much of this did Harm explain to you while he was on the phone?”

“Something about Rothschild’s house being the subject of a recurring nightmare he’s been having,” Cait replied. “Oh, and I think he mentioned spousal abuse as the reason the admiral’s seeking a divorce.”

Sturgis nearly gagged on his own saliva. Bringing the phone back up to his ear, he informed Cresswell, “Sir, Admiral Pike says Rothschild told Captain Roberts she was being abused by her husband. Look, apparently Admiral Rabb told Admiral Pike that he wanted her and me to meet him at the hotel where Rothschild’s been staying since this mess started unfolding. If the Senate makes a decision, I’ll be reachable on my cell.”

 _“Anything else I should know right now?”_ Cresswell asked.

“Yes, sir, Petty Officer Conway broke brig about an hour and a half ago,” Sturgis replied. “As I understand it, he managed to wrest a weapon away from one of his guards which he used to facilitate his escape.”

 _“Conway. That was the child-endangerment case, right?”_ Cresswell confirmed. Hearing a response in the affirmative, he continued, _“So you’re telling me we’ve got a habitual drunkard on the loose with a gun?”_

“It looks that way, sir,” Sturgis told him.

Cresswell sighed. _“It looks like they’re getting ready to reconvene, so I need to get going.”_

“Aye, sir,” Sturgis responded, hanging up the phone.

**1757 ZULU  
NATIONAL NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER  
BETHESDA, MARYLAND**

“If I may, sir,” Bud suggested as Coates turned out of the driveway onto Rockville Pike, “we might want to call ahead and let the admiral know we’re coming.”

Harm nodded, handing back Bud’s cell phone. “Do it.”

Bud took the cell phone and began dialing. After a moment, the phone was answered, _“Best Western Georgetown, how may I help you?”_

“Room 408, please,” Bud requested.

 _“One moment, sir,”_ the receptionist responded. The line went momentarily dead but returned shortly thereafter. _“Petty Officer Wallace.”_

“This is Captain Roberts. Will the admiral be available in about another forty-five minutes?”

 _“Yes, sir, shall I pencil you into her schedule?”_ Wallace asked.

“Yes, thank you, Petty Officer,” Bud affirmed. “Also, I seem to have picked up a bit of an entourage since we last talked. I’ll be arriving in the company of a rear admiral and a lieutenant.”

 _“Aye, sir. Will that be all, sir?”_ Wallace responded.

“I’ll see you then, Petty Officer. Roberts out.”

Harm turned to Bud and asked, “What do we know about Admiral Rothschild?”

“Not much, sir,” Bud informed him. “We know she’s currently a rear admiral lower half under consideration for a second star and the deputy JAG position, and we now know that she’s seeking a divorce from her abusive husband. Other than that, the Senate’s sealed her service record for the duration of their hearings, so I can’t tell you anything else.”

“I guess we’ll find out more when we get there,” Harm mused.

 ****1844 ZULU  
BEST WESTERN GEORGETOWN  
WASHINGTON, DC

Harm, Bud, and Coates pulled into the hotel parking lot at almost the same time as Cait and Sturgis.

“Cait! Long time, no see,” Harm greeted her.

Cait just rolled her eyes. “This had better be good for you to drag me out here in this weather, sir.”

Together the five proceeded into the hotel, where Bud quickly spotted Petty Officer Wallace, who was already moving to greet the group.

“Sirs,” Wallace said, coming to attention.

“As you were,” Harm replied.

Bud began making introductions, indicating each person as he gave their name. “Petty Officer, this is Lieutenant Coates, and these are Admirals Pike, Turner, and—”

“—Harmon Rabb, Jr.,” Wallace finished. “My aunt’s spoken quite a bit about you over the years. It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir.”

“Well, then I’m sure you’ve heard scuttlebutt’s version of the story about my firing off an automatic weapon in open court—” Harm began.

“Actually, no, I don’t think I have heard that one, sir,” PO Wallace interrupted.

“—but to set the record straight, I did it to show that the weapon used couldn’t have jammed as the defense was attempting to claim,” Harm explained, seemingly oblivious to Wallace’s response that she hadn’t heard the story before.

“I see,” Wallace commented. “If you’ll follow me, sirs, the admiral is currently staying in room 408.”

As they boarded the elevator, Wallace said, “If you don’t mind my asking, sir?”

“Ask away,” Harm replied.

“Is it true that Commander Krennick tried to seduce you with an offer to make the charges from assaulting Lieutenant Lamm ‘go away’?” Wallace asked.

“Twice,” Harm told him. “Not to mention all of her _other_ attempts to seduce me. Quite frankly, I probably should have filed, or at least threatened to file, a sexual harassment charge against her.”

“Any idea what became of her after that?” Wallace continued.

Harm shook his head. “After I got out of prison on the charge of murdering Lieutenant Schonke, it was if she and Lieutenant Austin had just dropped off the face of the Earth—and come to think of it, I don’t ever recall seeing Lieutenant Williams afterwards either.”

The elevator dinged to indicate that it had reached the fourth floor, ending their conversation. The five officers followed Wallace to room 408, where she withdrew the room key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

When Harm reached the end of the narrow entranceway, he stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw. Just behind him, Cait was unable to react quickly enough to keep from running into him from behind. “Harm, what’s wrong?”

Meanwhile, Admiral Rothschild had rolled over in bed to face the visitors. “Harm,” she croaked. “Thank God, you came.”

The bruises on Rothschild’s face were hideous, but Harm would recognize her big blue eyes in a heartbeat. “Meg,” he breathed, “how long has he been doing this to you?”

She winced. “Would you believe me if I told you this was all from just one night?”

Harm strode quickly to the bed and gently wrapped one arm around her, sitting down beside her on the bed. “Actually, it doesn’t surprise me at all. I know you, and you would never sit back and just let anyone do this to you. My only question is why, Meg. Why would anyone want to do this to you?”

“He was drunk,” Meg rasped. “Why else?”

“Oh, poor Meg,” Harm whispered, leaning over to plant a tender kiss on his former partner’s forehead.

Seeing the exchange, Bud turned to the group and said quietly, “I think we should give these two a moment alone to process all this.”

Cait nodded her agreement. As she herded the gathering back into the hallway, Sturgis turned to Coates and asked, “Did I miss something here?”

Coates shrugged. “He’s certainly never mentioned anything to me. Either that, or I just still have yet to put two and two together.”

As Bud was about to launch into an explanation, Sturgis’ cell phone rang. “Admiral Turner.”

 _“The Senate’s decided on Admiral Carver for Deputy JAG,”_ Cresswell informed him. _“Any updates on that brig break?”_

“No, sir, but it seems we’ve finally gotten to the bottom of Rabb’s adventure,” Sturgis replied. “Apparently there’s some sort of past connection between Admirals Rabb and Rothschild. Captain Roberts was getting ready to explain when you called.”

 _“Put them on speaker, Admiral,”_ Cresswell ordered. _“I want to hear what’s got Rabb running halfway across the DC Metro area with a brig-breaker on the loose.”_

Sturgis clicked the speaker button on his cell and held it in the middle of the small circle that had formed. “Okay, Captain Roberts, I have General Cresswell on speaker. Now explain to us how Rabb and Rothschild know each other.”

“Sirs, did Admiral Rabb ever mention the name Meg Austin to either of you?” Bud began.

“I seem to recall him mentioning something about her regarding Diane’s murder,” Sturgis mused.

 _“Austin. Wasn’t she his first investigative partner when he transferred to JAG from naval aviation?”_ Cresswell asked.

“Second, sir. I was his first,” Pike interrupted.

“Anyhow, sirs, he worked with her from the end of September 1995 to the end of May 1996, when she, along with Admiral Chegwidden’s aide, Commander Krennick, mysteriously disappeared sometime during then-Lieutenant Commander Rabb’s incarceration on suspicion of having murdered Lieutenant Schonke,” Bud explained. “He spent the rest of 1996 moping about the office, and he basically spent the next fifteen years putting on airs of false contentment. He later confided to me that over the course of their partnership, he had fallen in love with her—”

“—but couldn’t do anything about it because of the frat regs,” Turner realized. “So then around the beginning of ’97 Mac shows up, and Harm thinks he’s in love with her because of the resemblance to Diane, but really he’s too disoriented both by the resemblance and because he’s still reeling from losing Austin. I always thought the marriage with MacKenzie was a sham, but until now I had no basis for that.”

Bud nodded. “Shortly after then-Commander Pike made her brief reappearance at JAG HQ, he told me that he had given up on finding her again, but he didn’t think he would ever be the same man again that he had been while she was still there.”

“He asked me while I was there whether I had seen her since that case on the _Daniel Boone_ with the North Korean spy,” Cait added. “He seemed…desperate. Manic, almost. Telling him that no, I hadn’t seen her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. He was just so heartbroken that I didn’t know what to do. Quite frankly, I don’t know how he stayed away from the bottle. I needed a few brandies later that night to numb the sadness I felt just from having to tell him I hadn’t seen her, but he had to live every day with that…he’s stronger than I’ll ever be, I’ll tell you that.”

“Colonel MacKenzie was a recovering alcoholic,” Bud explained, “and Admiral Rabb would never let himself cause her to relapse by habitually drowning his sorrows.”

“Ever since Harm and I met again when I came to JAG shortly after 9/11, he was never quite the same Harmon Rabb I knew at the Academy. I had always attributed it to Diane’s murder, but I guess that wasn’t it at all,” Sturgis commented.

“He had said that it was something he had difficulty discussing with people who hadn’t known the lieutenant personally, which I suspect was another contributing factor to his issues with the colonel,” Bud added.

“Well, even if Colonel MacKenzie had known Lieutenant Austin personally, there’s no way he could have told her all this. The colonel had a jealous streak five miles long,” Coates interrupted.

 _“Pardon me for interrupting this_ scintillating _conversation, but how does any of this relate to Admiral Rothschild and how she and Admiral Rabb…”_ Cresswell’s voice trailed off as the lightbulb dawned. _“Wait a minute. Captain, are you trying to tell me that_ Rothschild is Austin _?”_

“Yes, sir,” Bud replied. “Apparently in the two decades since Lieutenant Schonke’s murder, Meg Austin married a man named Richard Rothschild and rose through the ranks to rear admiral, lower half.”

 _“So what do we know about this Richard Rothschild?”_ Cresswell asked.

“He’s a wife-beater, sir,” Bud responded, “and that’s about all we know.”

“Wait a minute,” Cait interrupted. “Meg and I were like sisters back in the day when we were both lieutenants. Unless she’s changed quite a bit in the years since then, she’s not the personality type to let herself be a domestic violence victim without trying to get out of the situation herself.”

 _“So you don’t think this is something that’s been going on for a long time?”_ Cresswell asked by way of clarification.

“No, sir, I don’t,” Cait replied, “and I’d be willing to wager it was probably only one time, maybe two.”

“Which means I’ll need to find another grounds for divorce,” Bud commented ruefully.

“Well, if it turns out that quote-unquote ‘home invasion’ Coates heard about on the news was actually a domestic disturbance, then we can get the husband for lying to police, and with any luck, the police investigation into the so-called ‘home invasion’ will yield enough evidence for an assault charge, and you’ll be able to file on grounds of criminal conviction of the opposing spouse,” Sturgis suggested.

“Plus we’ll have the admiral’s testimony,” Bud added. “Unless her personality has changed drastically since the last time we saw each other, I’m almost certain she’d be willing to testify for the State.”

The discussion was interrupted by the ringing of Bud’s cell phone. “Captain Roberts.”

After a moment, Bud sighed. “Well, I wish I could say I’m surprised, but given what he’d done up to that point…”

There was a brief pause before Bud asked, “Is everyone okay over there?”

Another brief pause, then Bud commented, “Well, at least there’s that. Alright, I’ll pass that along.”

After hanging up the phone, Bud informed the group, “Petty Officer Conway tried to force his way into Headquarters and wound up having to be shot by security.”

 _“Unfortunate that it had to end that way, but at least he’s no longer a threat,”_ Cresswell remarked. _“Unless there’s anything else you think I need to be aware of, I’ll presume you can sort out the rest of the situation yourselves.”_

“Nothing else to report, sir, other than that I will most likely be filling in for Admiral Rabb for the rest of the day,” Sturgis replied.

 _“Very well,”_ Cresswell said before hanging up.

“With your permission, sir, I’d like to remain behind with Admirals Rabb and Rothschild,” Cait addressed Sturgis.

Sturgis nodded. “Permission granted. Bud, I’m assuming you still intend on discussing your client’s divorce case with her at some point?”

“That’s correct, sir,” Bud confirmed.

“Very well,” Sturgis responded. He and Coates made their way back down the hall toward the elevator, leaving Bud, Cait and Petty Officer Wallace alone outside the hotel room.

Wallace withdrew the room key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Holding it open for Bud and Cait to enter, she said, “By your leave, ma’am, sir, I believe Admiral Rothschild has some errands she’d like me to run.”

Cait nodded. “Carry on, Petty Officer.”

Bud and Cait entered the room and proceeded through the entranceway into the bedroom area. Since their departure, Harm had removed his shoes and uniform jacket and now lay on the bed whispering into Meg’s ear.

“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Cait said.

Meg looked up and, seeing the visitors, allowed a small smile to cross her face. “It’s been too long.”

“I know we have a lot of catching up to do, but Admiral Turner asked me to pass on a message to Harm,” Cait continued. “Firstly, the Senate selected Admiral Carver for Deputy JAG, and secondly, Petty Officer Conway was shot by security trying to get into JAG HQ.”

Harm let out a long breath. “Well, I suppose under the circumstances it’s not unexpected. Is he still alive?”

“Unknown, sir,” Bud told him.

“Was anyone else hurt?” Harm asked.

“No, sir,” Bud replied.

“Good,” Harm said. Turning to Meg apologetically, he went on, “I probably ought to get back there.”

“Admiral Turner said he’d handle it, sir,” Bud put in.

“Well, as much as I appreciate his offering to do so, I’m still the CO,” Harm responded. “It’s my responsibility to—”

Meg raised a finger to his lips to silence him. “A good CO knows when to delegate,” she pointed out. “Can you honestly say you would be able to give that situation your undivided attention?”

“No, I suppose not,” Harm admitted. “It just doesn’t feel right—”

“Um, a word of advice, if I may, sir?” Bud interrupted. “When the lady of the house tells you to do something, you don’t argue; you just nod and say ‘yes, dear.’”

Harm chuckled a bit at that.

“I take it you speak from experience, Bud?” Meg asked.

“18 years in May, ma’am,” Bud confirmed.

“So we’re agreed that you’ll let Admiral Turner handle the situation at Headquarters?” Meg asked, turning her attention back to Harm.

Harm nodded. “Say,” he began with a spark of inspiration, “since Admiral Carver was selected for deputy JAG, there’s no particular reason why you _have_ to stay in the Navy. You’ve got your twenty in, so once the divorce is settled, you can retire from the Navy, and we’ll be able to get married without running afoul of the regs.”

Meg laughed softly and leaned up to kiss Harm. “Was that your roundabout way of proposing?”

“Well, technically, we can’t officially become romantically involved until after your retirement is finalized, but I suppose you could call it that if you want,” Harm replied.

Meg just rolled her eyes and sighed indulgently. “Oh, Harm.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’m aware that this is not at all how Senate confirmation hearings work. Just go with it.


End file.
